Shock
by ALEO
Summary: It starts as a bid for freedom from a police precinct but after being taken hostage Don learns things are not quite as they seem. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Numb3rs: Shock**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**A/N:**__ Written for Clue Challenge #12, June 2010, at hurt_don on LiveJournal. Prompts: __**Who?**__ – Don. __**What? **__– TASER. __**Where?**__ – Police precinct._

_**Spoilers**__**(more mention than spoiler): **__Rampage, Graphic, Janus List, Trust Metric, Two Daughters_

It starts as a bid for freedom from a police precinct but after being taken hostage Don learns things are not quite as they seem.

**CHAPTER ONE**

Don pulled to a stop in an 'authorised vehicles only' parking bay outside the precinct. Shutting down the SUV he sat for a moment, sighing at what was about to be nothing more than a waste of his time. After another sigh he got himself moving, the longer he waited the longer it would be before he could get back to work. Closing his door he saw the cause of his visit to the precinct, a series of scratches through the paintwork all down the side of the SUV. It had been keyed along both sides and across the hood while he'd been parked off at a crime scene the day before. He'd duly reported it to the fleet manager who'd assessed the damage and unsurprisingly concluded that the entire paintwork had to be re-done. That left Don where he was now, attending the nearest precinct to fill out a police report as required by the FBI's insurer before the repair work could be authorised.

Locking the vehicle he trudged up the stairs and entered the foyer. He stopped a few steps in. He'd expected it to be busy but not this bad. He had to queue to see the desk sergeant before he could be assigned a number before he could take a seat and wait to be seen. He was going to be here for hours. Another deep sigh left him as he took his place in the queue. He'd progressed about five places before a friendly voice at his elbow snapped him out of his funk.

"Agent Eppes?"

Turning he recognised the detective, a man he'd worked with the previous week on a series of home invasions. He extended his hand. "Detective Mortensen."

"What brings you down to our fine establishment?"

"Someone keyed my ride yesterday."

"That's your SUV out front?" Receiving a nod the detective continued. "That's gotta hurt."

Don made a suitable grimace in response.

"Come on, I'll take your report upstairs." Mortensen offered.

Don only hesitated for a moment before accepting the offer. The detective had more important things to work on but the report wouldn't take long and was only for forms sake, the FBI's forensic techs had already dusted and found no prints of interest. Taking the detective up on the offer would mean that he would be back at his office and his own work long before he'd even be near to even being called to make his report if he waited in line with everyone else. "Thanks."

"Hey, no problem. It'll be the easiest report I've worked in a long while." Mortensen said as he swiped his access card over the sensor at the door. The lock buzzed and he waved the agent through.

Don followed the other man up the flight of stairs and out into the detective's dayroom. Threading their way between the desks they finally reached Mortensen's where he was waved to a seat at the side of the desk.

"Coffee?"

"Do I really want any?" Don answered at the expression on the detective's face.

"Not if you like coffee."

That was fair warning. "Thank-you, but I think I'll pass."

"Smart." Mortensen took his seat, dropping the folder he'd been carrying onto a stack at the side of the computer. He pulled the keyboard towards him then logged on. "Alright, let's see if I can remember where the initial report forms are." He fiddled with the mouse for a bit before turning with a satisfied smile on his face. "Not so rusty after all. So, let's see. Complainant, Federal Bureau of Investigation. Informant, Don Eppes, Special Agent. Contact number?"

Don provided the office number and his direct line before answering the rest of the questions required by the form. He then gave a run down on how he found his vehicle to be damaged and the lack of result from the forensic examination.

"Forensics, not required. Suspects, nil. Insurance?"

Don handed over the card the fleet manager had given him. Mortensen duly noted the insurer's details and passed the card back. He pushed over a grey plastic pad with an attached stylus.

"I'll just get you to sign this and we're done. Need a copy?"

Don signed and pushed the pad back. "Yeah." If he'd been a normal citizen reporting damage to a private car he would only have needed the report number. In his case however the fleet manage had asked him to get a hard copy to file.

Mortensen fiddled some more with his mouse and pushed his chair back. "I'll just go grab it off the printer and you're on your way."

"Thanks, Detective. You're a life saver."

The man smiled as he stepped away, weaving his way across the room to a bank of printers Don could see set up on a bench.

As Mortensen reached his destination a door nearby opened and an officer came out, behind him followed a group of five men, all clearly offenders. Each was handcuffed and bore the expression of those caught out and knowing they were about to do some serious time. With the officer at the rear carrying a bundle of plastic bags containing what was probably personal property it had all the hallmarks of a prisoner transfer. Don looked them over out of curiosity, wondering who they were and what they'd done. He was in time to see the expression on the face of the man in the middle suddenly change from defeated to determined. He realised the man was about to try something. Despite being too far away to be effective, Don stood intending to give a warning but he was too late. Standing had given him a better perspective in time to see the man push the two ahead of him forward, knocking the lead officer off his feet. The officer bringing up the rear shouted but the man kept moving, lunging now sideways and reaching Detective Mortensen who had turned in surprise. The other two men in the line shoved themselves backwards and bowled over the other escorting officer.

Don and several detectives in the office started to move in but were brought up short when the sudden flurry of movement stopped. The first offender had Mortensen in a head lock, a pistol against his head, an awkward position with cuffed hands but possible. The others were now back on their feet, with the two escorting officers also held with their own guns to their heads. Don realised it hadn't been the one offender deciding to make a break, it was a concerted effort on the group's part. In a matter of seconds they'd gone from being prisoners to having weapons and three hostages.

There were shouts now from both sides, the detectives ordering surrender as the offenders ordered the officers to drop their weapons or they'd kill the men they held. Don was forced to adjust his position as detectives moved across in front of him seeking their own best angles. He found himself against the side of the room only a short distance from Mortensen, another detective just slightly closer and to his left. The shouts continued from both sides until Don heard the man holding Mortensen look to one of his accomplices and call a name.

"Ash."

One of the men holding an officer by the back of his shirt turned.

"Leg."

Ash released his hold on his hostage only to have the officer instantly grabbed by the offender standing next to him. Ash turned and lowered his stolen weapon before pulling the trigger. Not taking note of where his shot landed he instantly returned his gun to the officer's head in front of him.

The gunshot brought instant stillness to the room. Clear in the sudden silence was Mortensen's harsh breathing as he slumped in the man's hold with both hands clamped over the bullet wound in his upper leg.

"That was a warning. I'll be putting the next one in myself." The man threatened, given the position of the gun in his hands that could only mean one thing.

"What do you want?" One of the detectives asked, stepping forward slightly. Even though he didn't know the officer's name Don recognised him as a senior detective.

"For you all to drop your weapons and get down. We're getting out of here." The man then looked to his hostage. "And someone to take this one's place."

"Alright, just keep it calm. My name is Samuels." The detective slipped into negotiation mode, his voice no longer commanding even if not exactly friendly. "You know you are not getting out of here, right?"

"Then a whole lot of cops die."

"We both don't want that to happen."

"Then do what we say."

At the same time a shout came from the top of the stairs, uniformed officers rushing to find out why the shot had been fired had reached the scene and reacted as per their training. "Freeze!"

The men were now trapped. Their break for freedom had taken too long and they had lost the momentum they'd originally gained. Don almost held his breath, this situation could easily go one of three ways, the men could surrender, shoot it out or instigate a standoff. As he saw the tightening grips on the hostages Don knew where it was headed and that the next few minutes were the most dangerous for everyone involved.

"Back them off," The man holding Mortensen ordered. "Back them off now!"

"Easy, easy now." Detective Samuels soothed, attempting to calm things down.

"Don't tell me easy!" The man yelled back. He forced Mortensen forward causing Don and the detective beside him to move away a couple of paces. "Back them off."

Samuels made an urgent waving motion with his hand. The officers at the door backed up slightly but didn't retreat down the stairs.

The man wasn't happy but took what he'd been given. "Better. Now, everyone on that side of the room gets out. Everyone on this side stays."

The tilt of the man's head as he spoke clarified his order. He wanted those in the room closest to the stairs to leave, the others, including Don were to stay. It was clear that he felt three hostages, one of whom was wounded, were going to be insufficient for the standoff to come. An additional four hostages strengthened his hand even further.

"You don't want to do this. Put the weapons down and release the officers." Samuels tried.

The man's reply was to flick off the safety on the gun he was holding and pull back the hammer. A moment later he started to turn his head to avoid what would be the effects of his next action.

"Alright!" Samuels folded when it became clear the man wasn't bluffing and was about to shoot Mortensen. "Alright, we'll back off and let things settle." Samuels jerked his head at the detectives in the room, indicating for everyone to withdraw.

Don shot Mortensen a look but the man's eyes were closed as he struggled to remain calm with own gun pressed to his head. He glanced over at the two uniform officers and saw that while clearly afraid, as any sensible person would be, they were also holding it together. No one was going to do anything stupid. The detectives around him started backing away, Don followed suit.

"No!" The man countermanded. "I said this side stays. And everybody drops their weapons."

"Now, we don't-"

"Drop them!" He shoved his gun harder against Mortensen's head and no one needed reminding that the safety was off and the weapon was cocked.

After a rapid exchange of glances amongst the detectives Samuels was the first to release his stance and put his gun down on the floor. The others slowly followed suit, Don had no choice but to follow. At this stage of the situation, before full control, the hostages were most at risk. His read was the same as Samuels'; the man was not prepared to back down. There was no other option but to do as the man ordered if they were to keep Mortensen and the other two officers alive.

"All your weapons." The man ordered. "TASERs, pepper spray, cuffs, keys. Cell phones. Everything."

The officers complied then stepped back, holding up empty hands. Now the gun waved away from Mortensen's head, first to one side then the other, emphasizing his next order. "You all get out. You, get down."

Everything happened slowly at first then increased pace. The detectives closest the stairs, including Samuels, started backing away, followed by the other offenders holding the uniformed hostages, moving as if herding them from the room. The man holding Mortensen also moved, dragging the injured man with him as he approached the men he'd ordered to stay. The detective nearest Don was the first to move, slowly lowering himself to his knees, clasping his hands behind his head. The others followed, with Don the last at the hard stare that was turned his way. Reluctantly he went to his knees, hands held up at shoulder height.

"Here, catch."

Don was quickly on his feet and lunging forwards to catch Mortensen who'd been suddenly shoved towards him. He made it just in time, breaking the detective's fall and getting him down and seated, leaning against some cupboards. In the process he'd seen a tea-towel next to the coffee machine on the long bench above them. Reaching up he snagged the cloth and had it folded and pressed against Mortensen's leg in almost the same motion. He ignored the grunt in protest, the pressure was essential even if it caused pain.

There was a bang causing him to jump before he realised it wasn't a weapon going off but a door slamming and then sounds he recognised as bolts sliding home. The doors at the top of the stairs were being closed and secured. He glanced around to see the other men haul their two uniformed captives over towards the kneeling detectives and shove them down. All the officers were then ordered to lie face down on the floor. One of the men remained standing guard over them as the others grabbed keys and uncuffed themselves. In just a couple more minutes each man armed themselves, gathering up the rest of the discarded weapons and piling them on a desk creating a sizeable haul. They then tore open the plastic bags that the trailing officer had been carrying and recovered their wallets and other personal possessions.

Finished, the first man looked around, his gaze raking over Don and Mortensen before his attention went to the rest of the hostages. Officers were exchanging glances but each knew how volatile the situation was and did nothing further. The man snagged a pair of cuffs and tossed them at the nearest detective. One of the former prisoners repeated the action for the other hostages.

"Cuff yourselves, hands behind your backs."

As the others moved Don ignored the order, and the cuffs that had been thrown his way, concentrating on looking after Mortensen. He saw the warning glance on the detective's face a moment before he felt the press of a gun against the back of his head.

"Cuffs." The man behind him ordered. He didn't recognise the voice; it was one of the other men.

"If I don't keep pressure on this he could bleed to death." Don argued, ignoring the man's dangerous tone. "You don't want that."

There was a pause then Don felt movement behind him before the set of cuffs slid a foot or so across the floor to stop beside his knee.

"Then keep your hands in front."

The gun pressed harder and Don knew he'd pushed it as far as he could. Moving quickly he picked up the cuffs and fitted them around his wrists, locking them in place. He was reaching back to the cloth over the wound when he received another order. With no time to waste on arguing he reached around Mortensen's belt and pulled out the cuffs he found there, cuffing the detective's wrists together. He got his hands back onto the cloth and resumed applying pressure. The gun was finally pulled away from the back of his head and he took a deep breath in relief as the man stepped back.

"Get me a first aid kit." Don demanded before the man could move any further away.

"You don't get to give orders." A different voice growled.

Don glanced back to see the man who'd ordered Mortensen shot, and clearly the group's leader, approach. "This man needs a hospital." The agent said, knowing what the response was going to be to his statement. A seriously wounded hostage had great value, distracting the officers outside knowing that one of their own was hurt and in danger.

"He isn't going anywhere."

"Then get me a kit."

"Looks like you're doing just fine."

"If he bleeds out, if he dies, they are going to come in hard." Don snapped, as he turned to face the man. It was clear he needed a reality check. "Not a man here will begrudge going down if you go down as well."

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Numb3rs: Shock**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_

* * *

_

**CHAPTER TWO**

The man glared down at the agent for a long moment before waving his gun hand at the other man. "Get him the kit."

"Thank-you."

"Keep him breathing." The man told him. "He's your responsibility, Detective."

Don didn't correct him, turning back to his patient as the other man returned with the kit. He was hardly an EMT but he'd seen similar wounds treated often enough that he knew the basic steps. Cutting away the trouser leg around the wound with some scissors he drenched the wound with a tube of antiseptic, seeing in the process that it was not as bad as he'd thought. Opening the largest dressing pack the kit contained he pressed it over the wound. With Mortensen's help he got the widest bandage he could find wrapped around the leg. After critically examining his handiwork he wound another bandage over the top to increase the pressure.

"How you holding up?" He asked quietly.

Mortensen looked up at him, pressing his cuffed hands over the top of Don's work. A pained grimace crossed his face. "I'll make it."

"Who are they?" Don asked as he used a smaller dressing and some saline to clean the blood off his hands as best he could.

"Gun runners. They were brought a couple of hours ago." The detective answered. "They were due to be transferred over to the ATF for questioning."

Don nodded. That explained why they'd been cuffed in front, it was for transport having already been fully searched and processed. Procedures in place for the comfort and welfare of prisoners had given the men an opening that they exploited. The speed at which they'd accomplished their goal made him think they had military backgrounds. Their actions since then seemed to back that up.

"Ex-military?"

"I think at least two of them are."

"Got any names?"

"That one is Adam Crowd." Mortensen started, jerking his head at the one in charge. "Nasty piece of work, surfaced recently from seemingly nowhere but has priors elsewhere for shooting at police. According to his file he's suspected of having killed a few of his competitors over the years."

The agent glanced around to see the men working their way from hostage to hostage, patting each down for hidden weapons. "The others?"

"Don't know much about them, even if they've been around LA longer. His name is Brandon Murray. He's Ash Horn, intel says he used to be in charge until Crowd came along. Uh, I think that one is known as Malloy. The last one, I can't remember."

Don filed the names away. "How'd they get busted?"

"Some good work by a uniform crew. They spotted them by chance, tailed them back to the house they were using and we pounced. Crowd and his crew have been on the ATF's wanted list for a while." Mortensen looked up. "Heads up."

Don turned in time to see one of the men stop behind him and show him the muzzle of his gun. "You, up. Face away from me, hands on your head."

Obeying the instructions he stood and kept his back to the man as he moved his chained hands onto the top of his head. A hand at his collar jerked him back a pace or so before it released him. Holding still he felt the man run his hands over his back and sides and down his legs, he was being searched just like the others had been.

"Down on your face."

The order was accompanied by a sudden kick to the back of his knee and he went down hard, almost completely losing his balance. He made it the rest of the way without any more help and watched as Mortensen was searched. Satisfied with his haul the man stepped back and, seeing Don watching him, jerked his gun in a way Don took to mean he could resume his duties. Pushing himself up, feeling that his knee was already bruised in the process, he returned to Mortensen's side and checked the dressing on the leg. Thankfully it appeared undisturbed.

"This is not good." Mortensen commented.

Hostage situations never were but this one was especially bad with police officers held in their own precinct. There would be precious little impartiality on those outside as they worked to resolve things. That both worked for the offenders and against them. The responding officers would be emotionally invested, increasing the chances they would make a mistake, push something too hard at the wrong moment, or worse, capitulate when they needed to be strong. The negotiation and the response needed to be outsourced, to the FBI, but Don knew the LAPD would try their best to keep it in-house as long as they could. He could understand that, he would, and had done, the same when it was agents involved and he was emotionally invested.

The agent looked around again to find the men now grouped together, talking amongst themselves whilst maintaining a watchful eye on their hostages. They weren't bothering to keep their voices down.

"What are we supposed to do now?" The one who's name Mortensen couldn't remember demanded. "It wasn't supposed to turn into this."

"We get them to let us go." Crowd snapped.

"And how long is that going to take? We have to find another way out." Ash declared. "We're on the clock."

"I know that!" Crowd glanced at the clock mounted on the wall before starting to pace as he thought things through.

Clearly too impatient to wait as his leader pondered Ash continued, "The deal's worth too much money to let it go. We have to push them."

"We will. We just have to wait for them to call first."

"I say we kill one of them now." Ash said. "We do that, they'll call."

At that threat Don and all the other hostages tensed. If the men took that path it would turn into a blood-bath with heavy losses on both sides. He could see the frustration and felt it himself, used to having control over a situation he knew he had no control here and there would be nothing he could do to prevent whatever the men decided to do.

"They'll bust in guns blazing." Crowd argued back with a brief glance at the agent who'd made that self same point a short time earlier. "No, we wait for their call then we get things moving."

"We don't have time for this." Ash complained.

"We got enough. Someone keep watch at the door."

Crowd's order effectively derailed the argument, one man went to the door and leaned his ear against it to hear what was happening on the stairs. The others spread out to cover their hostages.

"They don't look too happy about it either." Don finally replied to Mortensen's comment.

"Probably thought they could just bust right out."

"With a few less people in here they may have had a chance at that." Don countered. He couldn't but help remember the time the bullpen had been shot up, one man with a hostage had practically enjoyed free run of the floor until they were able to finally corner and shoot him. That had taken far more time than today's attempted escape before it stalled.

"Where are you going?" Crowd suddenly demanded.

Don turned back to focus first on Crowd and then where the man was looking. Ash was at the rear of the room and had opened the door that the men had just come through.

"Looking for a way out."

"There's nothing back there."

"Oh?" Ash said in surprise. An expression of suspicion crossed his face as he turned to fully face the other man. "How would you know that?"

"If there was an exit there don't you think they would have taken us out that way?"

"Maybe, maybe not." Ash went through the door.

"Is there an exit?" Don asked Mortensen as the thought crossed his mind to wonder why it was that Crowd seemed so sure that there wasn't.

"Not one they'd find." The detective answered, keeping his voice low.

"So there is one?"

"Not any more, some ordinance breach or whatever. It was closed and the room it led from is now full of lockers. You can't even see the door."

"But it's there?"

Mortensen nodded before gazing thoughtfully at the open door leading from the dayroom. "You think we could have a go for it?"

Glancing around at the four remaining men and seeing their alertness he shook his head slightly. "Probably not. Just an option to keep in mind."

Ash returned a minute or so later and shook his head at Crowd's questioning look. The otherwise silence of the room was broken when a desk phone rang.

Turning towards the sound Don determined it was coming from a desk near the middle of the room. "Samuels?"

"Probably." Mortensen answered. "He's the shift supervisor. The captain's out so he's in charge until he comes back."

Crowd didn't waste any time picking up the phone. "This is your fault. … You know what I want, a way out. … Well, sooner would be better than later. Your man's bleeding up here."

There was a longish pause as Crowd listened to the negotiator before abruptly standing. "There's a time limit on this. I, _we_, want out now with guaranteed safe passage. Two cars ready and waiting in ten minutes. … No, _ten_ minutes."

"They said they were in a hurry." Don commented at the unreasonable demand.

"They know the longer this takes the harder it is going to be for them to get out of here."

Which was part of the reason the manual required negotiators to slow everything down, it was supposed to allow both sides to think on their moves but it also allowed the police time to shut down all avenues of escape.

"I don't have time for this. Call me back on one of these cell phones." Crowd ordered before slamming down the landline handset.

Watching in increasing concern as the man started pacing beside the desk where they'd piled up the officer's equipment Don could only wait for Samuels to call back in. The standoff had only just begun but the men's urgent need to be elsewhere quickly for their own purposes was only going to be bad for the hostages. Crowd had said he was going to push it and it seemed now things were going to come to a head fairly quickly, despite the best efforts of those outside.

A cell started to ring, an old fashioned bell ring tone. Sorting through the pile of phones on the desk Crowd selected one and answered the call.

"Are the cars going to be there in ten?" Crowd asked as he again sorted through the items on the desk, selecting one of the weapons and looking it over. Clearly the answer on the other end of the line was not what he wanted to hear. Moving away from the desk as the negotiator continued speaking he stopped a couple of yards away from Don and the injured detective. His gaze focused on the two men as he spoke harshly into the phone. "You're not listening to me. How about you listen to this?"

The man raised the item he'd selected, pointing it at Mortensen.

"No." Don moved, placing himself between the weapon and the man's target. The detective was already hurt, he didn't need anything more done to him.

"Someone's taking a ride." Crowd warned.

"Me."

"Suit yourself." The man adjusted his aim and pulled the trigger.

Don heard the pop and then nothing for a second or so as he felt the shock pass across the muscles of his chest, thrumming in time to the rapid pulses from the TASER. The pain was intense as his muscles cramped up and his arms curled up to his chest, completely beyond his control. After the initial second or so his other senses recovered and he could hear the rapid clicking but that was all he was capable of doing until the cycle ended. He knew it would only be five seconds but it was a damned long five seconds.

Finally it stopped and, contrary to popular mythology and television, he wasn't stunned unconscious by the shock even if it took him another second or so to realise it was over. Don found himself slumped partly over Mortensen, breathing heavily as he quickly recovered. He got himself moving, shifting his weight off the wounded man and leant back against the cupboard beside the detective as he looked back up at Crowd.

"Got that?" The man taunted into the phone, the sensitive microphone would have picked up the noise of the discharging TASER. He briefly pressed the cell against his chest muffling his next words. "What's your name?"

"Eppes."

Bringing the phone back to his ear Crowd continued. "Your man Eppes here has got some balls, but that ain't gonna help him much if you don't do as I say." The man frowned at the response, repeating Don's name before, "Huh?"

Don had seen the man's expression change and found himself pierced with a hard stare as the phone was again covered. He could figure what had just happened, the negotiator had just reacted in confusion at the unfamiliar name. Before he could say anything to explain who he was the pain was back as the trigger was again pulled on the TASER. The probes still embedded carried the latest charge to his muscles.

"Who are you?" Crowd demanded when the cycle stopped.

It took Don a moment, the recovery was slower this time, during which he was sure the man would fire the TASER again but he got the words out. They would soon discover it for themselves anyway if they searched him more thoroughly and checked his ID. He pulled the lower edge of his jacket aside exposing the badge on his belt, "Federal Agent."

"ATF? DEA? What?" Crowd demanded, not bothering to take a close look at the badge.

One of the other offenders that had moved closer to stand near the table at the sudden increase in tension now sorted through the weapons there, coming up with Don's Glock. He provided the clarification before Don could, recognising the weapon as standard issue. "FBI."

"Looks like we got us an FBI agent up here." Crowd announced into the phone at Don's confirming nod, his tone almost gleeful. "I'm not talking to you any more. Call the feds and tell them what we want. I want to hear from them in five minutes or he gets more of this."

This time the phone was held close to the TASER as the man set it off again, the clicking would be transmitted loud and clear.

It took longer this time for Don to recover, three hits in such a short time left his muscles twitching. The pain from the cramping was gone instantly the cycle ended but he felt a wave of fatigue as if he'd just completed a heavy upper body workout and his muscles ached.

"Happy you took that ride now, Feebee?" The man asked, the TASER held casually down by his side. It didn't need to be pointed towards his target to work, the trailing wires to the probes would carry the charge no matter where the TASER was pointed from several yards away.

Don didn't bother answering that. He shifted and felt the pull from one of the barbed probes that had gone through his shirt and penetrated his skin over his stomach. The other probe had gone into his jacket at his shoulder and had also hooked into his skin but wasn't as painful, small as that pain was compared to the charge the device delivered. There was an easy way to fix that and he reached with his restrained hands for the probe at his stomach, intending to pull it out.

"Uh, uh. Leave it." Crowd ordered. "I like having you on a hook."

Don pulled his hands away and glared up at the man. Tethered to the TASER the man could jolt him whenever he pleased. Many more cycles could be delivered before the battery was drained. It was not hard to figure that a TASER was an excellent device for torture if misused as the man had already demonstrated. Unfortunately for Don the stringent policies and procedures in place governing how officers used the devices did not apply to the criminal.

"Name and section so I can tell them who we got when they call."

There was no point in refusing the information. "Special Agent Don Eppes, Violent Crimes Squad supervisor."

"A boss. Nice." The man was pleased, not only a federal agent, but a senior one. "You just scored yourself a trip when we leave."

No surprises there, Don knew he was now their number one hostage. He made no comment and the man simply turned away, taking a seat at a desk close enough that the wires hung loosely. The TASER itself was put down carefully, kept close to hand as he waited for his call from the FBI.

"You should have let me take it." Mortensen said quietly.

Checking the detective's leg Don looked up. "No way."

"Now they're targeting you." He eyed the wires trailing away from the agent's torso.

"So? It's just a TASER. Hurts like hell but nothing permanent." Don didn't need to indicate the man's bullet wound to illustrate that point.

.


	3. Chapter 3

**Numb3rs: Shock**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_

* * *

_

**CHAPTER THREE**

Don's conversation with Mortensen was cut short by the argument that broke out behind them.

"Now we got the feds involved?" Ash started, stalking over to stand over Crowd. "This just keeps getting better."

"Yeah? Well it's hardly my fault now is it?"

"You called them in!"

"What else was I supposed to do when we found out who he was?"

"It doesn't matter who's fault it is, we've still gotta get outta here." The unnamed man chipped in, interrupting the argument before it could develop.

"Working on it."

"Doesn't look much like it to me." The man snorted as he gestured at Crowd sitting at the desk.

"I don't care what you think it looks like."

"Well I don't care what you think you're working on. I'm getting out of here."

"And how are you going to do that Jackson? Shoot your way out?"

"Unless you got a better idea." Jackson snapped back in complete seriousness. It was exactly what he had in mind. "We line some of these cops up they won't be able to shoot back."

"Yeah, I like it." Ash joined in. He picked a gun up off the desk and shoved it into his belt with a satisfied pat. He nodded at Jackson. "Let's do it."

Jackson grinned as he also selected a second weapon. "Just like back in the day, shock and awe."

"Shock and awe." Ash repeated before raising his voice to carry to the other two men. "Murray, Malloy, you in?"

Malloy, standing over the hostages looked at each man in turn before a grin split his face. "Hell yeah."

Murray at the door was a little more hesitant. "I think we should wait."

"Today's payday. We don't have time to wait. We don't make the meet we lose everything, he's the only buyer for this stuff." Jackson argued back, beating Ash to the punch.

"We wait." Crowd insisted.

"You're the one who said we'd push. Waiting is not pushing." Ash pointed out before turning back to the last man. "You want out of here Malloy, you're with us."

The situation, already plenty bad enough was deteriorating rapidly with the argument amongst the men and the plan that was being developed. Exchanging a quick glance with Mortensen and seeing the expressions on the other hostages' faces Don knew he had to do something. As the newly favoured bargaining chip his words should have some sway. Don started to push himself up but before he could speak Crowd reacted to what he perceived as a threat from his periphery, quickly standing and turning. In the same motion Crowd's finger squeezed the trigger and off balance Don fell back as the TASER again cycled. The frustration almost overwhelmed the pain as there was nothing he could do but ride it out.

"Stay down." Crowd ordered as the cycle ended.

Don stared upwards into the barrel of the gun Crowd was now aiming at him, the TASER hanging loose again in his other hand. If he moved again it wouldn't be a TASER ride that he'd have to contend with. He raised his bound hands showing he wouldn't move, having gained the man's attention he'd achieved what he'd needed. Quickly glancing away he saw the other offenders start to move to put their plan into action, a plan briefly interrupted by his actions as all weapons had swung his way. Now Jackson and Ash were bending over a hostage each, reaching out to pull them up. The other two men were moving in.

"Stop them." Don said urgently. He could apply only one meaning to Jackson's 'shock and awe' statement. The men were going to force their way out shooting, with the deliberate intent of taking out as many officers as possible. "They do this it will be a blood-bath."

"Shut up." Crowd jerked his gun in warning as he turned away. "The feebee's right."

Dragging a detective up with an arm around his neck Ash turned. "Since when do we listen to feds?"

"Since he's talking sense. When his people call we're going to get out of here. He's going to make them listen to us, right Feebee?"

Seeing little option Don agreed. "I'll make them listen."

"I don't think they care much for him, or these cops." Jackson said. "They were supposed to call five minutes ago. They missed the deadline. Time we showed them we mean business."

"This is not the way," Don insisted, not willing to leave this negotiation in Crowd's hands. Things were moving way too fast and needed to be slowed down. "Let me call them, I'll tell them how serious you are. No one needs to die, that includes you."

"We're not the ones who're gonna die, Fed." Jackson responded. The man he was holding started to twist in an effort to free himself but stopped half stunned when the butt of Jackson's gun slammed into his skull. "Just some dumb cops."

Desperate now Don climbed to his feet and ignored the barrel of the gun that hovered inches from his nose in response. Crowd had no time to do more to control the agent given the circumstances. Don focused his attention on the man behind the gun. "Stop them."

"You're either with us or not, Crowdy." Ash warned.

"I got us this far. I can get us out." Crowd's attention didn't waver from the agent he was holding at gunpoint mere inches away.

"I don't think he's with us." Jackson commented.

"I don't think he is either." Ash agreed.

As both men turned significant glances at each other and then at Crowd Don realised that the coup was about won. It seemed that Ash was taking his leadership back. The man's next words confirmed it.

"Four million splits better four ways."

"Five ways." Crowd interrupted, trying to regain control. He turned away from the agent, risking an attack but the threat posed by his own men was more urgent. "This is my deal, I set this up. You would get nothing if it wasn't for me."

"They were our contacts, without us you wouldn't have been able to sell them. This is as much our deal as yours."

"Exactly. You need me and I need you." Crowd seized on the opening. "We got these cops and we got a feebee. We're going to get out of this. It's just going to take a little time."

Ash looked up at the clock on the wall, not even half an hour had passed since they'd seized control. "Time we don't have."

"We got time." Crowd quickly shoved the TASER into his belt then reached out his now spare hand and grabbed a handful of Don's shirt, dragging him around and pushing him out in front of him. "This is a supervisor, not some junior agent, he'll make the feebee's listen."

"I don't care if he's the Director, I want my money and I'm not going to jail. I got mine," Ash said giving his hostage a slight shake in emphasis. He glanced around at each of the other men also holding hostages tightly. The last two hostages, Mortensen and one of the uniforms remained still and watchful on the floor, just as helpless as their companions. "We've all got one and you've got the fed. Time to go."

"No, we have to wait. We make him make the call, they get us our cars and we'll get out of here safely." Now Crowd was sounding desperate.

Another significant glance was shared between Ash and Jackson. Then a nod as a decision was reached. Ash turned back. "Four ways it is."

Don found himself being yanked to one side as Ash's gun came up. The bullet missed, passing through the space he'd occupied with Crowd an instant earlier. At almost the same time Jackson also fired, his round coming even closer as Crowd continued to drag Don with him as he moved. Now Crowd took cover, pulling Don down after him to sprawl on the floor behind a desk. Don rolled, scrambling to get himself upright just in time to see Crowd snap off a shot back at his former partners. With each of the four men holding an officer as a shield Don couldn't let the fire-fight continue any further. Ash had as good as won the leadership struggle and bad as that was it was done. An out and out fight between him and Crowd was not going to help anything, was in fact quite likely to result in hostages being killed. He would have preferred that the negotiations went via Crowd but given what had happened they were just going to have to work with Ash. That meant bringing this struggle to a quick conclusion if they were to have any chance at surviving this situation, incredibly slim as that may be. Flinging his body weight sideways he knocked Crowd over, the man's next round firing harmlessly into the ceiling.

"Give it up!" Don ordered as he pounced, getting both hands on the gun and trying to wrest it away. His possession of the weapon would be short-lived but he had to stop Crowd. "You're done."

Crowd didn't answer, he got one hand free and landed a solid blow that caught the side of Don's face taking in his cheekbone and nose. The pain was instantaneous and intense, Don's eyes tearing up and leaving him blind even as the lack of bone crunching indicated his nose wasn't broken. Distracted, the next blow to the side of his head came without warning and he lost his already weakened grip on the gun as he fell to one side, ears ringing. Before he could do anything else he heard more shots ring out and then a heavy pounding. Ignoring the new noise in favour of blinking his eyes clear he sought out Crowd. His opponent was bracing himself over a desktop, firing back at the other men.

As Don started to rise again the pounding turned into a splintering sound and Crowd ducked back down. Don understood what was happening, at the sound of the shots the officers outside couldn't afford to wait any longer, they were breaching. They would be ill-prepared given the short time frame and wouldn't have a plan, their fear for the safety of their fellow officers forcing their hand. The situation really couldn't get much worse and once again finding the barrel of a gun hovering inches from his face there wasn't anything he could do about it. He looked into Crowd's eyes for a hint of what was going to happen next and saw only determination.

Don had to try anyway. "It's over. They're coming in."

"It's not over. Get up."

Before he could follow the order Crowd grabbed him by his shirt and hauled him up, giving him a solid shove. Getting his feet under him and finding his balance he turned his head to look back even as Crowd shoved him further away from the main doors. Stumbling painfully against a desk he had to turn away and watch where he was going but the quick glance had been enough to see what was going on. The door was in splinters and officers with riot shields were making their way into the dayroom. They were taking fire, having now drawn the attention of the other four offenders but were unable to fire back given the living shields between them and their targets. Despite that the officers were continuing with their breach, pushing their way in and forcing the offenders back.

"Move!" Crowd ordered, giving the agent another shove.

They were at the door at the back of the room and Don managed another glance back before he was shoved through. The officers forcing their way into the room were concentrating their efforts on the other men; it seemed they'd not seen Crowd and his efforts to escape with one of the hostages. Forced into the corridor beyond the door there was no way he could draw their attention. Stumbling at another shove he was then pulled up short by a hand at his collar before he was pushed sideways into a room. Shaking himself free he sidestepped, turned and stopped, trying to break the momentum that had enabled Crowd to force him this far. Crowd had other ideas and Don found himself slammed face first against a locker.

"Shift it."

Confused Don turned. "What?"

Crowd shoved him back hard and then reached out for the top of the locker beside the agent, pulling it violently away from the wall, jumping aside as it crashed to the floor. "The next one, shift it."

Taking half step back and glancing into the gap Don understood. It was the hidden door that Mortensen had told him about. Somehow, impossibly, Crowd knew about this exit and intended using it. He glanced back to find the man impatiently moving the next locker away. The locker he'd been shoved against was the last one that needed moving. Crowd's gun came up.

"Feebee, move it!"

Getting his fingers between the locker and the door he pulled, getting the metal cabinet out of the way. It suddenly disappeared from his grip, Crowd shoving it away once it was basically clear. As it crashed to the floor he saw the gun jerk towards the door. With still no options open to him, the breaching officers unaware of this drama and too far away in any event, Don grabbed at the handle and turned it, pulling at the door. Nothing happened. Thinking it must be locked he looked at the latch and saw clear space. The door wasn't locked, just sticking in the frame through lack of use.

"It's locked." Don tried then had to duck quickly away as best he could in the confined space.

Crowd had reacted instantly, shifting his aim and firing several rounds at the jamb, not at the lock itself which only worked in the movies. Had the door really been locked the area around the tongue was now pulverised and splintered and wouldn't hold against a determined pull. "Get it open."

Setting himself Don firmed his grip and yanked. The door gave abruptly, almost dumping him onto the floor. Barely recovering he was already being pushed through to find himself on a landing above at least two flights of stairs leading down. Catching at the railing he managed to avoid pitching headlong down the concrete stairs. A hard point shoved at his shoulder forcing him to make his way down, continuing past the next landing and down until they ended up at the bottom. Being kept almost constantly off balance by the man's desperate actions and need to keep moving it was next to impossible for Don to offer resistance. He had to somehow find a way to break the man's momentum again. Reaching the bottom door he pulled it open hoping that this new room would offer him something he could use against Crowd.

It wasn't a room, it was an entrance to the garage at the rear of the building. He didn't seen the ramp that lead down to the next level, nor did he see the exit for right in front of him was a uniformed officer just as surprised to see them as they were to see him. He was young, Don saw that much before he was propelled forwards into the man and they both fell in a tangle. Desperately he tried to roll aside to give the officer room to act but Crowd was already moving in, swinging his gun in a vicious arc to strike the man on the side of his head. The young officer fell back and didn't move. Shaking off the hand that pulled at his shoulder Don crouched over the young man and felt for a pulse. Finding the steady beat he let out a long breath in relief.

At a movement beside him Don turned to see Crowd reaching for the young man's utility belt, snagging not the holstered pistol but the set of car keys hanging from a hook. The small metal tag would identify the vehicle it belonged to. Crowd gave that a glance before tossing them aside in disgust.

"Marked." Crowd looked quickly around as if getting his bearings, his gun maintaining its unwavering aim at the agent.

For his part Don was calculating the odds of reaching the unconscious uniform's weapon before Crowd could stop him. The odds weren't good but before he could make the attempt Crowd turned back. Flicking his gaze downwards he saw where the agent had been looking.

"I'll take that." The other man commented as he unsnapped the holster and pulled free the gun, shoving it into the back of his belt. "Now, up. That way."

Once again Don found himself being manhandled, pulled up then shoved in the direction of a flat metal box bolted to a wall. As he was pushed against the concrete wall he recognised it as a key box.

"Stay. Don't move." Crowd made his order clear by pressing his gun against the agent's back as he got the box open.

With the weapon resting against his back Crowd would feel any move Don might attempt even with his attention on sorting through the keys hanging inside the box. Forced to wait he saw that this was the break in the momentum he'd been hoping for. Now he just had to somehow create a delay and hopefully another officer would come into the garage. The appearance of another officer would greatly interfere with Crowd's bid for freedom, which at this point was looking virtually inevitable. The speed at which the whole situation had developed had left this avenue of escape practically clear for the criminal under the assumption that the now unconscious officer had been set as a guard on an unused exit. Based on the young man's surprise Don had to realistically believe the officer's presence was in fact pure coincidence, more a case of wrong place, wrong time than purpose.

Crowd finally selected a set of keys to his liking. He stepped back. "Brown unmarked over there. Move it."

Don turned but held his ground. "No."

Crowd's temper flared. "Cooperate, Feebee."

"Why the hell should I?" Don demanded. He was not going to make the man's escape any easier if he could help it. Eyeing the weapon as it came up he knew that when it came down to the crunch he would have little choice but to do as he was told. Until then however he would make life difficult for Crowd as possible, forcing him work for every inch of ground he made in his escape. It was a fine line, the gun a constant threat but there was room to play and he was going to use it.

"I'm a cop, working deep cover."

.


	4. Chapter 4

**Numb3rs: Shock**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_

* * *

_

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Don blinked.

Whatever Crowd could have said that declaration was the very last thing Don expected. The man's actions until now were not the actions of a cop, deep cover or not. He just couldn't believe it, even if the man knew his way around the back of the precinct and knew about a long closed off and hidden exit. That would make perfect sense if what Crowd claimed was true but it was the only part of the whole mess that did. It wasn't enough to convince him Crowd was speaking the truth.

"You just shot a cop." Don started when he found voice. "And beat another senseless."

Crowd glanced at the unconscious man lying nearby. "He'll be fine and I haven't shot anyone. Now move."

Don resisted the man's attempt to keep him moving. "No, you had Detective Mortensen shot. That's worse."

Losing patience Crowd shoved the agent hard against the concrete wall, forearm laid across his upper chest as he leaned in. "Look, I did what I had to do to keep my cover."

Looking down at the gun that was also pressed against his chest Don could only come to one conclusion if he gave the claim any credence. "What cover? You were running the show. Looks to me like you've gone native."

The gun was pulled away. "I haven't gone native."

"Then end this." Don demanded as the pressure of the man's arm on his chest maintained its intensity. The gun may have been pulled away but it was still pointed at him. Crowd stared back at him and for a moment Don thought he saw indecision but it was quickly gone.

"No. I appreciate you're not one of us, not LAPD or any part of this but I need to salvage this op and you're going to help me make this look good."

"Native or not I don't seem to be getting any choice in the matter." He flicked his eyes down to the weapon inches from his chest.

Crowd followed his gaze before looking the agent in the eyes, his expression hardening. The brief hint of indecision the agent had seen moments before was gone, his path was clear. "No, you're not."

"Then as far as I'm concerned this is still what it was a moment ago, a prisoner escaping lawful custody holding a federal agent hostage." He had no proof the man was undercover, no proof that this was anything other than exactly what it seemed.

Crowd leaned back in, the gun once again pressing sharply against the agent's chest. "Look, I've been working too long and hard on this and I'm not going to let it go now. The buy is set. I'm making that meet."

"If you have a meet set, this doesn't need to go any further. Assuming you are an undercover, call your handler and SWAT can take them down when they turn up."

"No time." Stepping back he grabbed at the agent's shirt and pulled him away from the wall before shoving him towards the unmarked car parked nearby. "Going to be late as it is."

Stopping at the back of the car Don turned ready to argue his point again but stopped when he heard the trunk being unlocked. His thought derailed as he realised what Crowd intended. "No way."

For a moment Crowd didn't answer as he quickly reached in and pulled out the sledge hammer and bolt cutters lying in the otherwise empty trunk. "I have one shot of making this look good, Feebee. Get in."

Don stood his ground, this was more than simply being difficult. He really didn't want to get into the trunk, he'd found too many bodies in trunks to feel any ease at obeying that command.

"I'll use this if I have to." At the agent's failure to move he touched the other weapon shoved into the front of his belt.

During the firefight and subsequent struggle the trailing wires from the TASER probes embedded in his flesh had broken but the device in Crowd's belt was not rendered useless as a result. It could still be used in drive-stun mode delivering its charge through direct contact. The effect was perhaps not as debilitating as probes but locally just as painful. As the other man's hand moved towards the device Don reacted.

Pushing forwards he shoved his shoulder into Crowd's chest, driving the man back but unfortunately not knocking him to the ground as he'd intended. With his hands restrained it took a heartbeat too long to regain his balance and turn for another attempt. Crowd's gun hand was already swinging and his weapon struck the agent on the side of the head much as he had the young officer earlier. Unlike then however the blow was not as hard, designed more to stun than render unconscious. By the time he regained full awareness Don found himself lying in the trunk.

Crowd reached over the recovering agent for the emergency trunk release cable and gave it a solid yank. He set himself and yanked again, this time the cable came free and was tossed aside. When the trunk was closed the agent would be trapped.

"I can see you don't like this idea." Crowd commented as he stood over the cramped agent. "I was going to make you drive but I'm betting that would be a mistake."

Finding his voice Don agreed. "You guessed right."

If the man really was an undercover then he wouldn't actually kill his hostage if he refused to obey an order, the threat to use the TASER again a case in point. But given that Don couldn't be sure of the man's true identity if he'd been put in the position of driving his plan would have been to get them outside, into the open where other officers would have clear vision of them and stop the car. Throwing the keys out would have quickly disabled it and things would have then followed their natural course from there. Undercover or not, what Crowd had just done, was still doing, required him being taken into custody.

"I thought so." Crowd moved to close the trunk.

"Wait!" Don said sharply. "You say you're undercover, what about that mess upstairs? There are officers needing assistance. You could help them. That's more important than any op." The fact that Crowd had caused everything by his own actions Don didn't point out.

Crowd's head briefly turned back towards the door and the set of stairs they'd used to escape to the garage. With the distance and concrete between them they could no longer hear gunfire but that didn't mean there wasn't any. He regarded the agent again and the slight hesitation Don had seen earlier was back but was just as quickly quashed. "They'll be okay."

"You can't know that. Officers need assistance." Don repeated, hoping the catch phrase would trigger a reaction but this time there was none.

"Get down."

Don had risen up slightly whilst making his final plea, high enough that he would be struck by the trunk lid as it came down. Crowd's hand was already on the metal, pulling downwards forcing him to fall back to avoid any further injury. The abrupt movement set his head to pounding, three blows in quick succession more than enough to cause a headache, but he ignored the pain.

In the first few moments he could see nothing, the darkness absolute after the comparative brightness of the garage. He used those few seconds before he could see anything useful to pluck out the now useless TASER probes and toss them aside. By the time the car started moving he could see pinpoints of light around various fittings. A minute or so later as they accelerated up to road speed having driven out of the garage without resistance Don could finally see enough to orient himself and get down to the business of escape. Rolling onto his back he couldn't help the push upwards against the lid over him. Unsurprisingly nothing happened. With the removal of the emergency release cable there was not going to be any easy way to get the trunk open. In the limited space he twisted and felt around on the carpeting for a tab that would let him left sections of the flooring. He was hunting for the tool kit normally stored in a compartment under the floor. Mostly designed for changing flats it was going to be poorly stocked but it might provide him with a way of getting the trunk open or at the very least provide him with a weapon.

He found the tab and lifted only to find nothing underneath. The tool kit was gone. He slammed his fists onto the floor in frustration. He knew he shouldn't be surprised, people driving cars that weren't their own rarely bothered to check that they were fully equipped with the basics. He was sure the detectives would ensure they had a sledge hammer and bolt cutters, otherwise known as master keys, but unimportant stuff like tool kits were easily overlooked. The LAPD's fleet management section, just as the FBI's, included roadside assistance for mechanical issues. As a general rule there would not be any real need for any tool kits, even if it would be against operational requirements not to have one.

Bracing himself against a sharp turn he resumed his search. Knowing he was trapped and giving up on finding an escape were two vastly different things. There had to be a way, he just had to find it. There was no way of knowing how long this ride would take or what he might find at the end of it. Crowd had said he wanted the agent to help him 'make it look good'. While he didn't know what that meant he could only figure it wasn't going to be good for him.

He'd gone over the trunk twice and found nothing to aid his escape when the car came to a halt. This was longer than the previous stops at what Don had assumed were intersections and he tensed, his search had not found him anything to use as a weapon either. The vehicle shifted and a car door slammed a second or so later, Crowd had gotten out. Don shifted his position so he could face whatever was to come next but the trunk wasn't opened. There were faint voices then a rattling sound he was able to identify as a roller door. A few moments later Crowd had returned to the car and they moved forwards followed by more rattling as the roller presumably was lowered behind them. Having only sound to work with Don could only assume that they had just driven into a warehouse or large storage shed located somewhere not all that far from the precinct judging by the short drive. Unfortunately industrial or semi-industrial areas were a dime a dozen in Los Angeles and he couldn't hazard a guess where he might actually be. The vehicle again came to a stop and this time he could hear the voices clearly.

Without knowing where he was or what new situation he'd landed in he decided to remain still and quiet, bringing attention to himself prematurely could be even more dangerous than his current predicament.

"You got away." A man stated.

At best only an hour had passed since the hostage situation had developed at the precinct however it was easy for Don to believe that news of the incident was out, along with news of who was involved. He was well aware of the efficiency of the local media with well cultivated inside contacts.

"Yeah." Crowd responded.

"Kind of convenient."

"What? There was nothing convenient with what went down today."

The voice continued, clearly suspicious. "You escaped, just like that. The others didn't."

"What's your problem? I made it out, that's all that matters."

"You did, they didn't. I don't know you."

"C'mon, you know me." Crowd's voice dropped its belligerence as he tried to dig himself out of the developing confrontation. "We've met."

"Once."

"So? In this business you don't make buddies, you make deals."

"You only make deals with people you can trust." The questioner corrected.

"What's not to trust? I got the weapons, you got the money. Easy."

"Not easy." The man countered. "How did you get away? The news said nothing about anyone getting away. We were about to leave when you pulled up. And that looks very much like a police car."

"Didn't exactly have access to my truck now did I?" Crowd answered. "Of course it's a cop car, I boosted it to get here in time. Now, can we get to business?"

"Just like that. Boost a car and drive away." The man was still not happy with Crowd's explanation, ignoring the offer of getting down to the reason they were all there.

"It's a cop car, they don't stop cop cars." Crowd explained. "Besides, had me a hostage."

Listening in the trunk Don tensed again as it appeared he was about to be brought into things.

"What hostage?"

"A feebee." Crowd supplied. Don heard footsteps approach the rear of the car. "Still got him."

"What? And you brought him here?"

"Yep. Figured he still had a use."

Don was momentarily blinded as the trunk flew open. Before he could clear his vision he was grabbed by the arms he'd raised to protect himself and hauled out. Again Crowd manhandled him, shoving him away from the car towards a tight group of seven men standing a few yards away. It was as if he was being presented for inspection. Pulled to a stop there was a moment of silence as the men looked at him and he them.

The seven men ranged in type. He could only guess at who'd been questioning Crowd but the man standing at the front of the group in an expensive suit was a fair bet. Behind him five of the six were dressed more like workers, comfortable jeans and shirts. The last man was somewhere in between, expensive dress jeans and button down shirt. He was holding an aluminium briefcase. Given the lack of time to fully assess the situation he had to go with what it seemed on first blush, suit was the buyer, the dress jeans goon was the bag man and the rest muscle. The guns the last five were openly carrying aided that conclusion.

Glancing beyond the men he could see a flat bed truck and a small shipping container resting on the floor. An overhead crane was in position but not hooked up to the container. He didn't have time for anything else as the bag man stepped forward slightly and peered downwards at Don's belt. Following the other man's line of sight the agent saw that his jacket was pulled open far enough by Crowd's grip on his arm to expose his badge.

The bag man confirmed Don's ID as he pulled out his own gun. "FBI, not ATF."

"Doesn't matter." Suit said, distinctly unhappy at the development. "What were you thinking? He can identify us."

"No he won't." Crowd promised. "Thought you might doubt me and I figured I was going to need to prove my credentials. This fix that?"

Don didn't need any explanation of where this was headed even if it was being spelt out. Four million dollars was in play according to Ash which meant this deal was far beyond any street deal for a job lot of .38 specials. This was a serious deal with serious stakes and the last thing needed by either side was a federal agent in the mix, even a captive one. Crowd now had no other real option if he was to prove himself. Don's situation was impossibly desperate. The crushing grip on his upper arm and the gun pressed hard against his ribs, not to mention the group of armed men, severely limited his chances of survival.

"You do it." Suit ordered.

"That was the plan." Crowd agreed.

"Not smart," Don started to argue, breaking his silence. All thoughts of Crowd being an undercover had evaporated. The amount of danger the man had just put him in when there had been other options removed the doubt. It had all been a ploy to make his escape easier. "Killing me will-"

"Shut up!"

The solid jab to his ribs with the gun muzzle punctuating the instruction had him shutting up. Looking at the expressions on the faces of the men watching he saw a complete lack of concern for any consequences of what was to come. They had their preferred solution to this problem and Crowd seemed more than prepared to apply it. Don's options, severely lacking as they had been, were now reduced to zero.

"Hurry up and we can get down to business." Suit snapped. He brushed imaginary dirt off his immaculate clothing. A hand waved. "Over there somewhere, I don't want any blood on me."

"Sure. No problem." Crowd responded.

Don was dragged bodily away, the grip on his arm tightening even further if that was possible. He glanced back to see the bag man following a few yards back, probably in case Crowd chickened out or Don made a break for it. He figured the first was unlikely and gave the second a good try but with Crowd's firm grip he wasn't able to pull free. Even if he had no real chance of getting away, being shot trying to make good his escape was better than the alternative waiting for him. For his efforts he received a yank and a shake that almost had him stumbling to the floor.

A few more yards on and it didn't matter, shoved and tripped he hit the dirty concrete hard, barely able to prevent his face smashing into the floor. It was all over, but he got himself moving, not wanting to face his death lying on the floor. He made it up to his knee with the intention of standing and turning to face Crowd to see it coming but a heavy hand on his shoulder kept him down. He started to try to shake it off, the threat to kill him if he disobeyed an order really somewhat redundant now but a painfully hard squeeze had him stopping automatically. The hand left his shoulder and he heard Crowd step back. Free to move he found he couldn't as the sheer reality of what was about to happen came crashing down and froze him in place. Heightened senses heard small metallic sounds he was far too familiar with and there was no time left for anything.

A shot rang out, followed by the sound of a body falling.

A moment later there was a metallic clatter as the murder weapon was dropped to lie next to the body. That gun could never be used again. The executioner stood a second or so longer, staring down at his handiwork before turning and walking away, followed by the other man.

.


	5. Chapter 5

**Numb3rs: Shock**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_

* * *

_

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Lying on the cold concrete Don tried to make sense of what had just happened.

His thoughts were scattered and tangled up with the emotions of the last few minutes but there was no escaping the fact that Crowd had set up a cold blooded execution. There was no way that he could have survived, no way that the executioner could have missed his target, but somehow, he had.

For the moment Don's mind was unable to process anything more complex than that just as his body was unable to do more than lie there and breathe, trembling and shaking in reaction. He tried to take stock, willing his brain to function but the adrenalin high was making that next to impossible. There were voices from back near the car but he couldn't make out the words over the too loud sound of his own blood rushing through his ears. He fought to keep his ragged and harsh breathing as quiet as possible and hoped it was just his heightened senses that made it seem so loud.

Unable yet to direct his thoughts in any sort of coherent fashion his shocked mind went back over what had happened, reliving the horror of a few moments before. Forced to his knees he'd had no way of saving his own life, no chance of escape and no possibility of rescue. The sound of the safety being released and then the weapon being cocked behind his head still rang in his ears, almost as loud and as clear as the gunshot that had followed. He should never have heard it. His body, keyed to the moment in complete expectation of death had reacted by collapsing. His memory was blank at that point and he was aware now that at least a few seconds had passed whilst his senses had completely shut down. It wasn't until he heard the sound of the gun being dropped next to him that he'd realised he was still alive even if he couldn't make sense of it. Or believe it.

Training and experience finally started to win out over the adrenalin allowing his mind to clear somewhat and strength to return to his body. He remained motionless for a little longer as he got his thoughts in order. With his mind starting to work again he was now able to understand the conversation taking place somewhere behind him but he didn't listen to the words, instead using them to fix the men's positions as best he could. Determining that they were far enough away that a small movement on his part should be missed he got his eyes open as a first step. His heart hammered even harder in his chest, if that were possible, but his eyes confirmed what his ears had reported, there was no-one in a position to have seen his return from the dead. All he could see was a gun lying a foot or so away and then empty warehouse beyond that, having fallen with his head turned away from the men. All of which didn't really help him all that much, he had to risk moving if he was to find out more.

About to turn his head he stopped, there was a weapon within reach and if this larger movement was spotted he would need one in a hurry. Moving an inch at a time, the bulk of his body shielding his arms from view he reached out and got a hold of the gun pulling it back against his body. The comfort the weapon gave him was immeasurable and he savoured the moment, cradling it against his chest much like a child's favourite toy. The recently fired smell finally penetrated his senses and brought him crashing back to reality. Realising that he'd wasted precious time he pushed the gun away from his body slightly. If he was going to use the weapon he had to check it. Looking to the safety he found it off. Pushing the small lever with his thumb he put it back on before pulling the slide back just far enough to confirm the next round was correctly chambered. It was counter to proper procedure but outnumbered eight-to-one he couldn't afford to waste a round by racking the gun if he could avoid it. Not to mention the noise that would make, he would have to jerk the slide back and let it move forward at full speed as working the action gently could just as easily lead to a jam as clearing one. By not displacing the already chambered round he could silently ease the slide forward with less risk. For the same reasons he didn't drop the magazine out, he could see other rounds waiting below the chambered one, enough to let him know the weapon was loaded. There was nothing he could do about the number of rounds available to him in any event; he had to take what he could get. He thumbed the safety off. It was good to go.

A sudden thought hit him. This was no accident. Crowd could not possibly believe that the agent was dead, a bullet delivered to the head bled messily and quickly, both from the pressure of the blood flowing through the skull and the efficiency of the heart to continue working for at least a few seconds longer. Even if Crowd hadn't had the same experience as the agent in witnessing such things he would have to know there would be blood. The other man had been standing far enough back that he could have missed it but Crowd couldn't from his position. Yet he'd still dropped the apparently tainted gun and walked off calmly as if the execution had been completed to his satisfaction. That was the thought that stopped Don, Crowd had been satisfied. He'd planned this, had 'killed' the agent to remove him from the equation. The ruse effectively armed the former hostage and gave him the freedom to act. He was still cuffed which made life a little harder but as he'd been trained to keep two hands on a gun he could live with the restriction.

Another thought surfaced, Crowd really was an undercover. There could be no other explanation for what had just happened. The man was seriously off the reservation but still acted like a cop where it absolutely counted. That conclusion led to another, Crowd meant to take down the crew he was meeting and was hoping that the agent could provide much needed backup. The whole situation had gone down so quickly that even if Crowd had called backup on the way over there was little likelihood they would make it in time.

Ready to put the next stage of his plan into action he hesitated again. _Did he actually need to act? What was his obligation here, beside the obvious that there was a crime in progress? _ He'd been dragged into the whole thing very much against his will and was seriously outnumbered even if he counted Crowd as being on his side, a dangerous proposition. The sensible approach was to continue to play dead and wait for the buy to be completed and the men to leave, thus greatly increasing his chances of staying alive. If he acted the chances were more than good that he would be killed, particularly if his read of the situation was totally wrong. His thoughts were still not fully settled and he could easily be wrong, allowing his own hopes to twist the facts. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath as he knew what his path would be if an opportunity presented. There was much he didn't like about what had happened but he still had a job to do, even if he'd been forced into the middle of it without any real idea of what was going on.

Fixing the locations of the voices again he took a deep breath and slowly turned his head. There were no sudden shouts, no change to the sounds he was hearing that would suggest his move was spotted and he forced himself to ease the virtual death grip he had on the weapon in his hands. Finally, a long second or so later he was facing the other way, twisted somewhat awkwardly. The discomfort was barely felt as he concentrated on his first priority, looking for each of the men to fix their locations. His next priority would be to look for available cover, both for himself and that which would be available to the men if he took action.

The men were no longer in a tight group. Four of the five men that he'd decided were muscle were standing over near the now opened container. Don barely allowed himself to note that the container held some large boxes of the kind used to store weapons up to the size of shoulder rocket launchers before he turned away. The remaining three men were standing with Crowd, finalising their negotiations. He had a bad moment then, Crowd glancing his way. Despite having decided that the man had to be what he'd claimed his grip again tightened on the gun and he tensed, ready to react and start shooting if the man called him out. Instead Crowd didn't appear to notice that the agent had moved, showing no reaction as he continued his conversation without missing a beat.

"You've seen the merchandise," Crowd was saying, waving his left arm at the container. He turned the gesture into a shift of position, taking a half step so that he now faced the agent more directly. "Are we going to do this or what?"

Suit and the two men automatically adjusted their positions so that they were now turned further away from the agent. The deliberate move on Crowd's part provided the agent with a better chance. He glanced back over towards the container to see those men more focused on the contents rather than anything else, their weapons shoved into their belts. He was sure they would be quick to react however if they heard anything untoward. It was going to be hard for him to do anything with the men separated into two groups. There was nothing he could do about it so his best option for the moment was to wait and see what happened next.

"You're giving me a discount." Suit stated flatly. At his words the bag man knelt opening the case to reveal a laptop. He started typing, presumably getting ready to adjust the amount of money on offer.

"Why would I do that?"

"The risk level on this deal went through the roof when you brought the federal agent here and killed him." There was no sympathy for the alleged dead agent, the man was simply upset at how he could be held to account if he were ever linked to the death. It was just plain bad for business.

As would be expected given the comment Crowd looked toward the man he'd just supposedly murdered. Their gazes locked for the briefest of moments before Crowd presented his argument. "My mess, not yours."

Already tense Don tensed even further, on high alert in case Suit or any of the others also looked his way. He was ignored, the conversation continuing.

"I'm taking one mil off for emotional distress and dry-cleaning." Suit declared, again brushing at his suit. He sounded anything but emotionally distressed.

"That's twenty-five percent!" Crowd complained.

"Either that or we walk."

Don found himself hoping that Crowd would let the man walk even as he suspected the chances of that were virtually non-existent.

"Fine. Let's get this done, the sooner we're away from here the better." Crowd handed over a slip of paper and stepped back a pace, his demeanour suggesting he was less than impressed but was going to accept the loss so that the deal could proceed. His move also further turned the men away from the prone agent.

The bag man accepted the note from his boss and started typing a series of commands into the laptop. After a moment he stood and turned the case around presenting the computer screen for inspection. Crowd bent close enough to read the screen then nodded, the deal was done.

"Here." Reaching into a pocket he pulled out a set of keys that he tossed at the third man. The keys were snatched out of the air and held up, the tilt of the man's head clearly asking his question. Crowd waved at an electrical fuse box on the wall then addressed himself to Suit. "Power for the crane. Your discount means your boys do all the work."

Suit jerked his head at his man and the man headed off towards the fuse box with a parting rude gesture towards Crowd. Crowd returned the gesture before taking another pace back. There was no love lost between the men but as he'd pointed out earlier they were not in this business to make friends. Suit also turned away, walking towards the container leaving the bag man to shut down the laptop and close the case that held it. The bag man then backed away, keeping Crowd under surveillance as he headed over to join his companions.

Crowd appeared relaxed, giving the man a cheeky wave as he leant back against the stolen police car and gave every indication of waiting. When the bag man's attention wavered Crowd sent another glance Don's way, this one more significant than the others. Forcing down the surge of anger at the man expecting his help he interpreted the question and prepared his answer. Still keeping his movements slow and careful he shifted his arms across under his body until he could lift his hands slightly and show the other man the weapon now in his possession. He was about as ready as he could get and returned the slight nod sent his way in acknowledgement.

As Crowd pushed off from the car and checked the gun in his hand in preparation Don had another thought, something needed to be done about the undercover. As with the other thoughts that had no relevance in the now he pushed that aside. There was no time to waste dwelling on that, not with things about to come to a head. He would have to leave it for when he had both the time and the opportunity to do something about it.

Assuming they survived the next few minutes.

.


	6. Chapter 6

**Numb3rs: Shock**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_

* * *

_

**CHAPTER SIX**

Crowd took a few paces towards the cluster of men before hesitating and shooting another significant glance over at the agent still lying on the ground. Don understood the reason behind it, the undercover wasn't sure that the agent would actually back him up. Pushing down another surge of anger Don shot a quick look over at the gun runners. Confident that his movement was unlikely to be spotted he jerked his gun towards them, he would back the play. Reassured the undercover resumed his approach.

The bag man noticed first. "I thought you were letting us do all the work?"

Now would be a good time for Don to make his move but he didn't, it was his turn to doubt the support Crowd might provide him if he did. If he moved too soon and things went south sudden paranoia had him wondering if Crowd would back him or remain in character and turn on him in order to save his own skin. For the moment he was about as safe as he could be, Crowd the only one that knew he was alive, so he would wait before revealing himself until he was sure.

"Everyone get down." Crowd ordered, bringing up his gun.

As Don had expected the men reacted quickly, each drawing and bringing their own weapon to bear, including Suit.

"A double-cross?" Suit asked mildly. He could afford to be confident with his men around him. "Not a wise move."

"Back off and we'll let you live." The bag man offered before pointing out the obvious. "There's only one of you."

"LAPD." Crowd finally identified himself. "And I'm not alone."

This was his cue. Rising quickly Don found his legs wobbly but they held as he pushed himself up to a fast walk. He came in on an angle so the offenders wouldn't be able to cover both he and Crowd at the same time, forcing the men to split their attention between the two of them. With the men concentrating on Crowd as the threat he managed to get closer than he'd thought possible before he was finally noticed.

"But you're-" The first goon managed in surprise.

"FBI. Drop your weapons."

If the situation had not been so dire the expressions on the men's faces may have been funny as heads snapped around and they saw the all too alive agent facing them. They recovered quickly and weapons swung his way.

"LAPD," Crowd repeated. "This is a bust. Down on the ground, now!"

No one moved.

"Stupid." Suit responded a few seconds later. After glancing around at his men he looked back over at Crowd. "Oh, well. Two dead cops are no worse than one."

Don didn't need any further warning that the men were going to fight it out. The cover that he'd looked for earlier was virtually non-existent in the open warehouse. The options were the stolen police car, the flatbed truck, the container and a few support pylons that were less than ideal as secure cover. The only cover on their side was the police car and Don was too far away to take advantage of that, the truck and container were out of the equation for him. So he did the only thing open to him and dove to one side, rolling quickly as the first shots were sent his way. He heard Crowd return fire and looked up to see the men start to scatter, seeking their own cover. From his prone position Don added his own fire, seeing one of the men go down. Another man dropped as one of Crowd's rounds hit its mark. Further bullets ricocheted off the concrete around forcing Don to roll again, holding his answering fire until he was able to stop and aim. This time he only managed to wing a man before he had to move again.

Rolling on the floor wasn't making it easy for him to keep track of everything he realised as his next quick count of the men was down by one. Using Crowd's fire as cover he got himself up into a low crouch and ran towards a support pylon for the overhead crane. As cover went it wasn't the best as it would leave about half of his body exposed but it was better than nothing. Reaching the steel pylon he caught his breath and checked for the locations of the offenders and Crowd.

Three men lay motionless and splatters of blood radiating outwards showed that others had been injured. A brief advantage had been held by the two LEOs whilst the men had been mostly grouped together. That slight advantage was gone now as the men had scattered and obtained cover. Crowd he found over near the car as he'd expected, sheltering behind the front end where the engine block provided effective protection. The other man saw Don's glance and flicked his gun ever so slightly to the right. It was a suggestion for the agent's next move.

Looking to the right Don saw that he was closer to the container and truck than he was the car. If he was able to reach the container which was nearest him, he could possibly come around behind the sheltering offenders and turn the tables. He would need a distraction. Turning back to Crowd Don peeled one hand off his gun and twisted his wrist against the restraint of the cuffs. Holding up three fingers he waited until Crowd flashed three fingers in reply. He would go on the count of three. Closing one finger at a time he picked out his route, unable to see any of the offenders at the moment. A head suddenly popped out of cover around the front of the truck as his last finger closed. Before the man could fire a carefully placed shot from Crowd forced him back.

Using the distraction Don moved quickly, covering the distance from the pylon to the end of the container in very short order. Now it became even more dangerous, some of the gun runners were hiding on the other side only a few yards away. Thinking on his strategy he looked back over at the undercover. Receiving a nod Don inched his way around the container, his goal to flush those hiding behind it out to where Crowd could cover them and hopefully get them to surrender. With three of their number already lying dead or close to it, the chances of that were better now than before. He made it around the first corner without incident. The second however was a different story and he had to duck back in a hurry as he was spotted.

"FBI!" Don tried. "Drop your weapons and step out."

His reply was a volley of shots indicating that surrender was still some time off. In order to apply more pressure in the hope of getting the men to change their minds he crouched and peeked around the corner again to get a count and an idea of their exact locations. By keeping low, below where he'd been moments ago he made the quick move without incident. Two. That left the other two hiding somewhere behind the truck, well out of his reach for now. Two was workable. Almost on cue Crowd provided the distraction he needed.

"LAPD. Come out with your hands up." His order was accompanied by another shot.

Don gave it a beat and then moved out, still in a low crouch, weapon up and ready. Both men were turned away which was something he'd not expected. Given that they were dealing in weapons and were prepared to shoot their way out of trouble he'd assumed they'd had some sort of military training. He'd expected to find one still facing his way and had been ready to put the man down if it came to it. Perhaps, as with Crowd's crew, only some were ex-military. Whatever the reason was, with both of the men giving him their backs he had the best advantage he'd had all day.

"Drop them." He ordered, rising to his full height.

The two twitched as they realised their mistake. One started to turn but Don's repeated command had him changing his mind. After looking at each other for guidance the men slowly placed their weapons on the ground and raised their hands.

"Out. Move."

The men slowly rose and started forward, stepping out from their shelter and into Crowd's range. Don saw the undercover watching and followed the men as far as he dared, keeping in mind the other two hiding somewhere behind the truck. Stopping where he felt safe he kept his gun up and aimed at his two prisoners, waiting for them to reach a spot far enough out in the open that Crowd could keep them covered while he worked at trying the same manoeuvre on the remaining two offenders.

"On the ground." Crowd ordered when they were far enough out.

Once the men were down with their hands clasped on the backs of their heads Don indicated he was going to move on. With the change in angle making his responses visible to the others Crowd acknowledged the agent's intentions only by shifting his aim so that he could cover both the prisoners and the truck. Aware that what had worked once may not work again Don still kept with his plan unable to come up with anything better given his lack of resources and back-up. Reaching a point where he would have to cross from behind the container to behind the truck he stopped and crouched again. Leaning down he looked along floor level and found a pair of feet about where he'd expected them. With less cover behind the truck he wasn't going to be able to move slowly to get close to the man. He had to move as quickly and quietly as he could in the hope that his luck would hold and he would be on the man before detected.

It worked exactly as planned. Moving quickly along the tray body of the truck he rounded the cab and got his gun pressed behind Suit's ear. Repeating his orders from before had Suit dropping his weapon and walking forwards before lying flat on his face beside his companions. Knowing something was very wrong Don started to back away when he was the one that had a gun pressed up against the back of his head. The final man, the bag man whom he'd lost track of earlier had turned his trick against him.

"_You_ drop your gun." The man hissed.

"No. Drop yours."

"Real funny." The bag man said. He pressed up against the agent's back and reached around with his left hand to wrest away the gun. "Now, we get your friend to drop his."

Unable to help the snort at that he got himself under control as he was pushed forwards, a hand at his collar whilst the gun remained rammed against the back of his head. They stopped at the edge of the truck, Don exposed to Crowd's view whilst the bag man remained shielded. "Not my friend. He'd as soon shoot me as you."

"Yeah, right." The bag man commented, clearly not believing the agent. He raised his voice, "Hey, LAPD, got your FBI buddy here. You want me not to kill him you're going to drop your gun and come out where I can see you."

On hearing the apparent change in the balance of power the three men lying on the ground in the no-man's land between the two sides started to sit up drawing an immediate response from Crowd even as the threat to the agent hadn't.

"Stay down." Crowd ordered.

"LAPD, I'm waiting."

"You can keep waiting. I got three of yours here, including your boss."

"You think I won't kill him?" The bag man demanded, incredulous. In emphasis he pushed the agent out a pace or two before kicking him in the back of the knee. As the agent steadied himself on his knees he raised his gun and took aim at the back of his head. "Remember this? I won't miss."

Being forced to his knees with a gun at his head twice in short succession Don's mind threatened to shut down. He had no reason to doubt the bag man would kill him, just as he'd not doubted Crowd. Struggling against his body's defences he drew a deep breath and managed to pull himself back together. Getting his eyes open again he was in time to see everything happen as if in slow motion. Crowd rose up from behind the car with his gun swinging up in a steady, two handed grip. Sighting along the top of the weapon the undercover fired twice, a double-tap.

"Neither will I."

Don felt the press of the gun drop away before he heard it fall to the ground followed an instant later by the bag man's body. By moving forward and forcing his hostage down he'd lost his shield and opened himself up to being shot, an opportunity Crowd made good use of. Breathing heavily Don realised that his eyes were closed again and he once again had to pull himself together. The repeated close calls were taking their toll. Calling on his reserves he gave himself a hard mental shake and snapped out of it.

Getting back to his feet he staggered slightly as his knee sent a sharp spike of pain up his leg, it had been the same knee that had been kicked out from under him back at the precinct. Putting his weight back on the leg he was satisfied it would support him so he ignored the discomfort. He recovered the weapon that had been taken from him from the dead man's belt. This time he dropped out the magazine and confirmed he still had a few rounds left. Sliding it back in he got back to work, approaching their prisoners.

"You're welcome." Crowd snapped sarcastically as he also approached.

Treating that with the contempt it deserved Don stopped in a position where he could safely cover the three men. "Search them. I'll cover you."

Shifting as necessary as Crowd worked Don kept his aim at the gun runners. Within a minute or two the undercover had finished, tossing the contents of the men's pockets into a pile well out of their reach. With the agent continuing to stand guard Crowd also quickly went over the dead men, knocking their weapons aside.

Don strained his ears, his head unconsciously cocked to one side but he still couldn't hear anything. Surely enough time had passed by now?

"Where is your back-up?" Don demanded.

Crowd held up the cell phone he'd snagged from Suit. "Calling them now."

"What?" He'd been sure the undercover had called for back-up on the way to the warehouse. Whilst they wouldn't have arrived in time for the take down he was banking on them at least being on the way and being due any moment.

"Remember that little tussle we had back at the precinct? Well you made me lose my cell, and broke my watch." Crowd complained. "This is all your fault."

"My fault?" Don heard his voice rising and realised he was close to losing it. As he worked to regain control Crowd's call went through.

"Captain? It's me." There was a longish pause as he pulled the phone slightly away from his ear. From his position a few yards away Don could hear the angry woman's voice even if he couldn't make out the words. "That's not important right now. I've made the bust. Send some troops and the coroner."

Crowd then gave the address and directions to the warehouse and hung up, not allowing the woman to get another word in edgewise. Satisfied the agent still had their prisoners covered he quickly went to the roller and opened it before returning.

Don limped to a spot where he could watch their prisoners, the newly opened doorway and Crowd as he waited. The job was not done yet but he could do nothing further until the back-up arrived.

.


	7. Chapter 7

**Numb3rs: Shock**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_

* * *

_

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Within a few minutes sirens could be heard approaching, the nearest uniformed units detailed to attend their location. Other sirens were further back. It was several more minutes after the initial sirens stopped before shadows appeared at the edges of the roller door.

"LAPD!" A man shouted. "Everybody down on the floor."

"We've got prisoners under guard." Crowd shouted back. "It's clear."

There was a pause as the officers worked out their approach. Without any further warning officers made their way in, ducking around both sides of the roller door to come in from two angles with their weapons up and ready. As Don had earlier found they too discovered that there was precious little cover available inside the warehouse. Aware that they would be exceedingly nervous Don made sure his weapon was visible and just as visibly aimed downwards rather than at the approaching officers. Crowd also turned so that he also presented a less threatening appearance.

"Identify yourselves." The same man demanded once they'd closed in. Don could see the rank insignia identifying him as a sergeant.

"LAPD undercover." Crowd responded first.

"FBI."

"ID?"

"You're kidding, right?" Crowd retorted.

"Here." Don answered, twisting so the man could see the flash from the badge clipped to his belt.

"Your collars?"

"Four dead. Three here, one over there." Don explained. "Three in custody."

"Alright, we got them." The sergeant stated, nodding at the officers to move in as he sent one over to check the bag man.

Don shifted aside and waited a little longer until he was sure that the prisoners were covered. Now was his opportunity to resolve the last outstanding issue. He swung his weapon up and across to point directly at Crowd. "Put the gun down."

"What?" Crowd demanded in shock as he saw what the agent had done. He stayed frozen in his previous pose as he continued. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Drop the weapon."

Crowd's face took on the defiant look he'd had back in the detective's dayroom before he'd made his move that had set this whole chain of events into play. "No."

Don set himself. It didn't escape his notice that the man's gun had started to move his way. The approaching LAPD officers slowed, weapons that had been aimed at the prostrate gun runners started to swing as a standoff developed.

"I will shoot." The agent promised.

"I'm a cop."

That argument didn't wash with Don. Few of the man's actions today had been those of a sworn police officer. He perhaps owed the man his life but given that Crowd had forced him into the situation in the first place he didn't feel any loyalty for it. "I don't care. You are under arrest."

"What are you doing, Agent?" The uniform sergeant interrupted.

"What for?" Crowd demanded at the same time, turning now to face the agent front on. The gun that had been aimed downwards at their prisoners was now aimed at Don's feet. "I was doing my job."

"You went too far."

"Suck it up, Feebee. Can't take a few TASER hits?" The tone was now scornful.

"I can't take you having another cop shot." He explained, angrily taking a pace forward. What the man had done to him was not something he was going to forgive, the tasering pretty much being the least of it, but having Mortensen shot was well beyond the pale. He just barely managed to not pull his trigger when the other's gun came up sharply. Crowd's aim was now potentially life threatening, the muzzle pointed just below Don's waist.

"They won't let you do this." Crowd flicked his eyes at the surrounding LAPD officers. The expression on his face conveyed his thoughts as if they'd been spoken out loud, they were fellow LAPD, they would support him over a feebee any day.

Not willing to remove his full attention away from Crowd Don could just make out the confused expressions on the uniformed officers' faces in his peripheral vision. It was clear to him that they weren't sure who to side with or why the agent was trying to arrest the undercover officer. Their briefing from dispatch was unlikely to have been detailed enough to link the bust to the incident at the precinct.

"Agent," The sergeant again interrupted. "You need to explain yourself."

About to reply he stopped as he was distracted by the appearance of more shadows at the roller door he was basically facing. Sirens had been constantly sounding since the first group of officers had arrived and now others were making their way in. As they moved deeper into the warehouse and away from the bright sunlight Don was able to recognise FBI windbreakers amidst the new group as well as a familiar face amongst the plain clothes officers, Detective Samuels.

"They will." Don corrected Crowd. "Time to end this."

"This is ended, Feebee." Crowd snapped after a quick look around. He jerked his chin at the prisoners. "I brought them down."

Don couldn't spare the attention to glance at the prone men, shadows in his peripheral vision. Crowd was still too much a danger for him to shift his attention that far. Glancing down at the man's gun he saw it was slightly higher than before. As he firmed his own aim and grip the cuffs he was still wearing clinked slightly, hardening his resolve. "Put it down."

"Detective Crowd," Samuels started. Even now, with the targets of the undercover operation within earshot LAPD procedure demanded that the undercover officer be referred to by his assumed name even if Samuels added his police rank.

"You knew who he was?" Don interrupted, incredulous.

"I just found out." The detective explained tersely. "Crowd, stand down."

"I don't take orders from you." Crowd's attention remained focused on the agent holding him at gunpoint.

"I know who you take orders from but she isn't here right now. You will stand down. You shot one of my men." Samuels added, making his position on the matter more than clear.

Hearing something in the detective's tone Crowd shifted his attention away from the agent again to see other weapons being aimed at him, held both by FBI agents and LAPD detectives. Crowd's fingers flexed on his gun as dangerous thoughts flashed across his face. He suddenly seemed to relax, releasing his stance and lowering his gun until it hung by one hand at his side.

"What the hell, I've done all the work. Someone else can do the mopping up." Crowd announced with a cocky grin. He raised his arms out to his sides and allowed his gun to swing until he held it with one finger through the trigger guard.

Don kept his guard up even as he lowered his gun to avoid having agents in his line of fire as they moved in to arrest the undercover officer. The sudden switch had Don on edge and he barely breathed until the man was wearing cuffs. The undercover was then searched. Don spent that time caught in Crowd's stare, finding that the cocky grin didn't reach the man's eyes. Instead there was warning and promise and Don knew he better not find himself alone with the man in an uncontrolled environment any time soon.

"Agent Eppes?"

Don blinked, snapped out of the stare by someone approaching him. He glanced back over at Crowd to see the man being pulled away by some agents. Allowing his weapon to drop further he turned to acknowledge the officer. "Detective."

"May I?" Samuels held a hand out towards the gun.

"Uh, yeah." Don said. Lifting the gun and pointing it safely away he managing to drop out the magazine. His hands suddenly shook with reaction after the sudden end to the danger and he struggled with the next stage of clearing the weapon.

"I got it, Agent." Samuels stepped in and cautiously placed his hands over Don's.

Don relinquished the weapon and saw the detective remove the round from the chamber before handing the gun off. Samuels then dug into a pocket and came up with his keys. Don held up his wrists and the cuffs were removed. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Rubbing at his bruised wrists Don went blank for a moment before remembering the breach on the dayroom. He knew of at least one injury and started there, not noticing Samuel's concerned expression aimed at him. "Detective Mortensen?"

"In surgery. He's going to be fine. Agent, you-"

"Anyone else hit?"

"One of ours took a round in the shoulder." Samuels reported as he got the agent moving towards the exit. "We took out two of the gang before the others surrendered with no other losses on our side. We found the rookie down in the garage, he's going to be fine too."

"Good." Don acknowledged. They'd been incredibly lucky, the offenders had seemed pretty much to have the advantage. Realising the detective should have been tied up back at the station with the aftermath he turned away from watching Crowd. "How'd you get here so quickly?"

"One of them told us where the buy was and we were heading in when we got the call."

So back-up had been on the way in, just not called in by Crowd. Don looked over as they exited the roller to see Crowd being placed into the back of a black sedan. That reminded him of another point. "You said you just found out who he was. What were his bosses playing at sanctioning this?"

"The op was sanctioned but not what happened today. Believe me they were just as shocked as I was." Samuels answered, steering the limping agent towards an ambulance. He continued with his explanation. "Right after the breach we got a call from his boss. His cover name had finally set off an alarm and they were on their way down to try to recover their op. They couldn't believe what he'd done. Apparently they'd been having trouble contacting him lately and with this they'd figured he'd gone over."

"I thought he'd made the whole thing up, especially when he set up my execution." The words came out easily enough but the sudden emotion that flooded his thoughts immediately afterwards had him stopping in his tracks. He felt the blood drain from his head leaving him dizzy with his vision darkening at the edges and would have fallen but for the detective's reaction.

"What the hell?" Samuels grabbed at the agent's upper arm and spun him around to face him. "He did what?"

Staggering Don regained most of his balance, both physically and mentally. He saw Samuels' face suddenly turn to concern as he steadied him.

"Sorry, Agent. I didn't mean to snap. Are you okay?"

Don got a hand onto the detective's forearm. "I'm good. I got it."

The detective's voice was softer now as he gently pushed the agent to the back step of the waiting ambulance and eased him down. "Here, sit. What happened? What did he do to you? No, wait, give me a sec."

Samuels ducked away, heading for the cluster of FBI agents just as Don saw two that had just arrived head their way. After a brief word Samuels and the agents joined him at the back of the ambulance where he was now being fussed over by the EMTs.

"I'm fine." Don tried to push the well meaning paramedics off as one prodded at his cheekbone.

"If you could see your face you wouldn't say that." Samuels commented. He looked at one of the EMTs as he turned his next statement into a question, "But, I'm sure they can give us a minute?"

"Sure." The man nodded and they made room.

"Agent Eppes, I'm Kate Sullivan." The female agent introduced herself as the other one, a young man, hung back.

Don nodded having met her several times. She'd been involved in a few of his operations when he'd needed more staff. "I remember."

"Agent, I thought it best you only tell this once for now." Samuels explained.

"Just give us what we need to work with for now, sir." Sullivan added having been told of Don's bombshell she could guess at how hard this was. "We can get the rest later."

Reminded again of what Samuels was seeking it took Don a moment to gather himself and he flashed the detective an appreciative look before he started. It was hard but he got his thoughts in order and managed to give a basic, almost point form description of the day's events from the takeover in the detective's dayroom.

"Okay, that should do it." Sullivan said with more than a touch of anger in her voice as he reached the point where the undercover had finished the apparent execution. The senior agent's voice had trailed off and he seemed lost in recollection. "Sir?"

"Huh? Oh, okay." Don again gave himself a mental shake, more than a little annoyed at how he was being affected by what had happened. Now that he had nothing else to worry about his mind kept replaying flashes of events he'd much rather not dwell on. The other agent started to walk off but he called her back, he had to be fair. "He also saved my life, taking out the bag man when he had me at gunpoint."

"Okay, I'll take that into consideration." She said after jotting down the brief details he provided. "I'll speak to you again soon. In the meanwhile Tony will ride with you."

The other agent extended his hand, "Tony Wilcox, sir."

Don shook the other agent's hand. That he was going to hospital was not in doubt, he needed to be medically assessed by a doctor as part of the investigation. He wasn't going to be staying there.

"Want me to notify your next-of-kin?"

"No!" The word was out in reflex before she'd fully finished the sentence. If he could have kept this incident from his father and Charlie he would have happily done so but he knew there was no way he could do that. Having the news come from another agent was unacceptable, he had to do it. "If I can borrow a phone I'll call them."

"You can have mine, sir." Tony offered, handing his cell over.

"Thanks." He made no move to dial, he'd wait until they were underway in the ambulance.

"Agent, if I could apologise on behalf of the LAPD I would." Samuels said as Sullivan left and the EMTs moved back in.

"None of this was your fault."

"I know but he's LAPD, he's one of us." Samuels gazed out along the path the vehicle containing Crowd had taken when it left.

"He hurt one of yours."

"I know. This should never have happened."

"Not getting any arguments here." Don agreed as he shifted from the ambulance's rear step onto a gurney. At the EMT's further insistence he reluctantly laid back.

"Alright, Agent. I better let them get you off to hospital. If there's anything we can do for you don't hesitate."

Samuel's guilt was understandable even if not warranted. It was hardly his fault that one of the LAPD's undercover officers had basically gone rogue. It was clear that just as he'd felt responsible when Colby had apparently been working for the Chinese so Samuels was taking the blame for Crowd even if the man hadn't been under his command. Arguing the point wasn't going to change his mind so Don simply nodded his thanks.

In short order the gurney was loaded and they were on their way. Turning the borrowed cell over in his hands Don composed himself before dialling.

"Dad?"

.


	8. Chapter 8

**Numb3rs: Shock**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_

* * *

_

**CHAPTER EIGHT - EPILOGUE**

It was not until after Don had managed to speak with Bradford that he felt ready to give his full statement to Agent Sullivan. He'd been reassured that his reactions to the close calls the day before were perfectly reasonable. Bradford actually thought he was doing better than the average person considering. Having been exposed to more than his fair share of critical incidents Don could agree that was quite possible even if he still felt somewhat embarrassed by showing what he considered a weakness. Bradford thought otherwise, but that was Bradford. It would take Don a little longer to be able to accept that.

"Hey, Don." David said getting up from his seat as Don appeared. "That looks impressive."

Reaching up Don touched the side of his face, the shiner had garnered him more than a few looks on the way up. The doctor had determined nothing was broken which was a relief but it was going to take a while before the deep bruising would start to fade. Equally impressive was the bruising to his knee accounting for his present limp but David couldn't see that under his jeans. Technically on medical leave Don hadn't bothered dressing up for the office, just comfortable jeans and t-shirt.

"Feels impressive."

"I bet." David agreed. "Colby and Nikki have had to go interview a witness and probably won't be back in time, but they say hi."

Whilst his team weren't involved in any part of the investigation to eliminate any claims of bias Don wasn't surprised that they were up to date on what was happening. They would know he was due in for his statement.

"Say 'Hi' for me."

"Sure." David followed Don's gaze over to a closed door. "I saw Kate go into the conference room a few minutes ago. I guess she's waiting for you."

"I guess." Despite already going over things with Bradford Don wasn't looking forward to doing it all again to the level of detail required for court. At least he would be able to leave out most of the emotional roller coaster he'd laid out to the psychiatrist.

"You going to be okay?" David asked in concern at his hesitation.

He had a flash of memory, David leaping off a balcony to save him. "Not the first time."

"True, but twice in one day?" At the wry grin David felt safe to add the rest in order to make light. "Must be some sort of a record."

"So Charlie told me."

"How did they take it?"

Now Don made a grimace. "Not well."

His father had been concerned when he arrived at the hospital after hearing his son had been hurt but after one look at his son's face he'd seen much more than Don had wanted him to see. By the time Charlie had arrived Alan had worked himself into enough of a flap that Don had to spill enough details that they understood the level of danger he'd been in and why he seemed a little out of it. The relatively clean bill of health had helped only a little and he'd been whisked home. Unable to eat due to the stress induced cramps in his stomach he'd been virtually tucked into bed despite his objection to the fuss.

Making a show of peering around his boss to see no one following, David said, "They let you out of their sight."

"Wasn't easy. I think maybe they're getting a bit more used to it." Being able to eat the breakfast his father had cooked had helped to go some way to convincing them he would be okay.

"Yeah, well let's hope they don't get too used to it." David saw Kate Sullivan appear at the door to the conference room. "You better go, she's waiting. I'll buy you a coffee when you're done."

It took a few hours. Normally he'd be allowed to type up his own statement but under the circumstances Sullivan had insisted that she take his as she would any other victim's. He didn't like to think of himself as a victim but as his name was going to be listed as the complainant on a fair few of the charges pending against Crowd the description was accurate enough. His talk with Bradford enabled him to go over the details without stumbling or getting caught up in flashbacks. He would still have them but he'd been assured they would fade soon enough to join all of his other unpleasant memories.

"Thank-you, sir. I know that was hard." Sullivan said as he signed the last copy.

"Has to be done." He pushed the stack of papers back over. "How is it going with Crowd?"

"Difficult. He doesn't really see the issue we're having with what he did, feeling it was all justified under the circumstances. I think he figured the bust would wash the rest away."

Don knew all too well that the end didn't always justify the means and said as much.

"Exactly. We expect to charge him later today so we're pretty much done until court comes around."

There was a knock at the door and the forensic photographer arrived. His injuries had already been photographed at the hospital the previous afternoon but bruises always looked better a day or so later, hence a second round. Finally they were done and he was more than ready for the coffee David had offered.

Seeing him come out of the conference room David had already shut his terminal down by the time Don reached him. Closing up some open files on his desk and placing them in their respective trays he was ready and they headed out. Waiting at the elevators Don relaxed, thinking it was all over. About to ask David about a current case they were working on he suddenly froze.

"Poor scared little feebee." An all too familiar voice taunted from behind.

Spinning around both Don and David saw Crowd standing behind them being escorted by two agents. Realising they'd just brought an offender in contact with a victim the two agents had already started pulling him back.

"Sorry, sir. We didn't know you were here." One of the two apologised.

Crowd planted himself, resisting their efforts to drag him away. "Thought you'd be tougher than that."

Crowd was now the one in handcuffs and Don had the advantage. Without conscious thought Don charged, breaking the escorting agents' hold and shoving the other man back against the wall, a forearm braced across his chest. He shoved his weight against the man a second time before snarling into his face. "You're going to jail. See how tough you are there."

"Don!" David got an arm between them and managed to separate them. "Easy."

Shaking himself loose Don stood still as the agents on Crowd grabbed their charge and started to pull him away again. He kept his attention locked on the man the whole time. "I'm cool, David."

"Perhaps I should press charges too, what do you think of that Feebee?"

"Get him out of here, now." David ordered.

This time the two agents were able to hustle their charge away but Crowd twisted and raised his voice as the distance increased. Heads turned across the bullpen. "Nah, I won't be pressing charges. Guess I'm not as soft as you. See ya round, Feebee. Count on it."

"You okay?" David asked as Crowd was shoved back into an interview room out of sight.

"Fine, David." While he shouldn't have attacked the man he felt better for it. He really did feel fine.

"I'll be surprised if his lawyer doesn't send him for a psych eval claiming he was affected by his undercover work." David said as they stepped into the elevator that just arrived. The doors closed and they headed down.

"Good luck to them. He knew what he was doing." He remembered Crowd's brief moments of indecision as he contemplated his options before taking the wrong path every time.

Several floors passed in silence.

"How about we get that coffee?"

Don managed a grin. "Best idea I've heard all day."

END


End file.
